


Lay Down Beside Me

by kiew



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25299166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiew/pseuds/kiew
Summary: “I can see the Shire,” his gaze focused as if he were truly there, and his heart warmed. “The Branywine River... Bag End… Gandalf’s fireworks... the lights… the party tree.” A slow smile spread across his dully aching face with each image, and he felt a peace wash over him.“The garden.” Sam spoke with a cracked voice. Frodo felt the corner’s of his mouth twitch further upwards. “The smell in the air of full bloom. All your favorites, just how you like ‘em best.” Frodo let his eyes fall shut. He could almost smell it on the harsh wind whipping insistently around them.“I need you to know something, Mister Frodo.”-Or, a fix-it for when Sam randomly says he wants to marry Rosie.
Relationships: Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee
Comments: 22
Kudos: 158





	Lay Down Beside Me

“It’s gone,” Frodo labored, heavy as it set in, “It’s done.”

The words felt strange, like they couldn’t be real. But he caught eyes with Sam beside him, and he knew.

“Yes Mister Frodo. It’s over now”

The relief was slow coming, and his gasps were almost laughs, until they were jolted forward by another burst of the volcano. They stumbled and clung to the stingingly hot rock, and Frodo eased himself down to lay atop the jagged surface. His heaving evened out after a few moments, and calm resolve spread through him.

The world felt distant somehow, just as his body. The scorching heat against his skin he barely noticed, and the sight of molten red shifted to the sky now filling his vision. It all felt far away, as a different place drifted into his mind.

“I can see the Shire,” his gaze focused as if he were truly there, and his heart warmed. “The Branywine River... Bag End… Gandalf’s fireworks... the lights… the party tree.” A slow smile spread across his dully aching face with each image, and he felt a peace wash over him.

“The garden.” Sam spoke with a cracked voice. Frodo felt the corner’s of his mouth twitch further upwards. “The smell in the air of full bloom. All your favorites, just how you like ‘em best.” Frodo let his eyes fall shut. He could almost smell it on the harsh wind whipping insistently around them.

“I need you to know something, Mister Frodo.”

That brought him to slide his eyes over, dry with ever-present grit, and meet Sam’s watery gaze. His heart suddenly became heavy as he waited.

“I need you to know how very loved you are.” The earnest look in his eyes was all but too much to bear, but Frodo resisted breaking away, guilty though he felt, and his brows drew up. The peace forgotten as reality returned.

“Sam…”

“No.” Sam’s tone now firm and eyes resolute. “I see it in your face, an’ I won’t have it.”

Frodo pressed on nonetheless, voice barely a whisper, “I don’t deserve it, Sam. You must see that, after everything.” Sam opened his mouth, but wasn’t given the chance to speak his mind just yet. “I’m so sorry. For all of it. I could apologize til the end of days and never deserve your forgiveness.” And he meant it. He meant it with all he had left in him. He knew in that monster’s cave that he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. He had cast aside the one good thing he had left as he let his judgment be poisoned.

“Don’t you dare.” Sam grit out, tears well past the point of spilling down his dirt streaked cheeks. “Don’t you dare think that. It wasn’t you, Frodo, none of it. It was that wretched thing around your neck. It was Gollum and his lies.”

He knew somewhere inside him that there was truth to that, but Sam must not see how truly corrupted he'd become, how twisted his thoughts were, how dark his heart still felt. The space beneath his shirt, newly bare, still had the heavy echo of what hung so recently.

Sam seemed to notice the turn of his thoughts. He always noticed so much. “Now, you listen to me, Frodo. You’re the bravest, strongest I ever knew. You did what no other could, can’t you see?” He gained a proud glint in his eye. “You resisted. You made it farther than anyone ever dared.”

But not far enough. “I was going to keep it, Sam.”

“It doesn’t matter! It’s gone now. You’re free.” Sam lit up as if just being hit with that realization, and his face turned gentle. “And I love you so dearly, whether or no. You must know it to be true.” As Frodo’s brows bunched further and chest ached, Sam swallowed and his face scrunched up. “No matter your feeling, you must know you’re loved.”

He was lost, free floating, his heart clenching and breath catching. He was lost yet he felt tethered, as Sam had a way making him feel. “Oh Sam… my dear Sam” 

With effort, Frodo shifted to sit next to the other, wrapping an arm around Sam’s shaking shoulders. He pressed forehead to temple, then a long and chapped kiss to a wet cheek. “I’m glad to be with you, Samwise Gamgee. Here at the end of all things.” With that he brought his other arm up to complete the embrace, and felt a hand grasp at his sleeve.

It had been a feeling he couldn't have, a feeling then tainted by the ring’s influence. Despite it all, he let it envelope him now in its warmth. “You must know as well how very loved you are, my Sam.”

At that, Sam turned inward to the juncture of his shoulder and clutched at his shirt, body racking with sobs. Frodo stroked the matted curls with his still whole hand, and carefully leaned them back against the rock, no energy left to spare so much as a wince at the scalding touch.

They lay there together, Frodo’s gaze turning to the sky until their breathing slowed and the dark closed in on him. He let his eyes drift shut, and his mind went quiet. His last thought was of the hobbit tucked against him, and a small smile graced his lips.

He felt as if he were floating.

\---

His first awareness was of the empty space beside him.

His second was the light behind his lids.

The soft cloth surrounding him is what opens his eyes, and squint as they adjust to the white. He eased up on his elbows with surprisingly little pain, gazing around the strange white room until he noticed someone at the foot of the bed. His eyes trail up the white robes to settle on a familiar, impossible face.

“Gandalf?”

He was different from head to toe in a way Frodo had never known him to be, dressed in all white with neat hair. His eyes were alight and a slow laugh escaped him that Frodo immediately returned. This could only mean one thing, but he couldn't care. He didn't know when he last laughed so freely and grinned so huge. 

Two figures appeared at the doorway, and maybe he should have felt a pang at what must have been their fate, but all he felt was joy at seeing Merry and Pippin again. They took running jumps to meet him on the bed and dissolved into more laughter as they hugged in turn.

Gimli was next to enter, and Frodo called his name, overjoyed to see more friends. Legolas soon joined, followed by Aragorn. His heart was so full being surrounded by some of those who had become most important in his life.

Soon after that thought, his eyes found Sam in the doorway, and his breath caught, smile dropping ever so slightly. It was a mix of emotions, seeing Sam. His Sam. He wanted nothing more than to be at his side, but not like this. The warmth in his chest soon overpowered all else at the tender smile he received, and Frodo reached out for him. Sam met him where he sat, and was pulled in as Frodo pressed their foreheads together with a wet laugh.

“Are we dead?” And maybe he should have dreaded the answer, but again he found that it didn't matter at the moment.

Still, it was a surprise when Sam shook his head with a chuckle. “No, if you can believe it. We survived Mister Frodo.”

The honorific brought his smile back, and he moved to look into the other’s eyes. “I think we're well past the need for titles, dear Sam.” Though at this point he found it endearing.

Sam just laughed and sat on the edge of the bed, Frodo’s arm staying securely around him.

His attention was brought back to his cousins bouncing about, and he got lost in the euphoria of it all.

They survived.

They won.

\---

Frodo had no idea how long they all gathered together in that strange white room. He heard snippets of what he missed, and was proud to hear of Aragorn’s soon to be coronation. Conversation was kept light and he was thankful for it, and all the while Sam’s solid presence beside him kept him grounded.

He was starting to grow tired once more, and Gandalf caught on, urging the others to leave him to rest. Sam started to shift away, but Frodo held his arm tight in sudden desperation. “Stay with me?” 

A sweet smile graced Sam’s face. “O’ course.” He then heaved himself fully onto the bed and Frodo shifted to make more room.

Gandalf was the last to leave, with a twinkle in his eye that made Sam blush something fierce, and Frodo chuckled beside him. 

They were alone now. A familiar situation that felt new somehow. He caught Sam's gaze and tugged him down to lay on the bed, sharing one of the oversized pillows. They were face to face, and Frodo felt like he was seeing the hobbit for the first time. He was clean of the grime that had coated him for so long, wounds washed and hair looking soft. It was his eyes though, green and beautiful, that held something slightly different behind them. It was a nervous sort of hopeful. The depth of emotion that showed plainly on his face left Frodo feeling unbalanced, regardless of being in bed.

In bed.

They were in bed together.

That realization shed some potential light on Sam's nerves, even though they had huddled together plenty on their journey. He let out a high laugh, and at the question in Sam’s eyes he simply shook his head, and asked what he couldn't quite grasp yet.

“Is this real?”

In answer, he felt a hand gently cradle his cheek. “I'm still not all convinced,” Sam said simply, just above a whisper, “but you won't find me complaining.”

At that, Frodo’s eyes grew softer. “Nor I.”

They stayed like that for a moment, simply basking in each other’s presence and this strange new reality.

“Did you mean it?” Sam asked. “If you don't mind my asking.” His eyes dropped down.

Frodo searched his mind for what he might be referring to, but he was uncertain. “Mean what?”

Color seemed to fill Sam's face again. “D’you remember, on- on the rock?” he got out. “The last thing you spoke to me?”

He tried thinking back. He hadn't much wanted to since waking, everything had been so wonderful. But he slowly recalled what he'd thought to be their last moments on Mount Doom, and realization hit, making his eyes soften again.

“Yes, my dear Sam, I did mean it.” He spoke with a secret smile, and at Sam's imploring look, he continued. ”I love you dearly, Samwise Gamgee.” And the elation he was met with could have lit a whole village.

“Could I- would you mind if-” Sam's eyes flicked down and lingered, and Frodo knew what he was asking. He tilted forward to place a light kiss to the other's still stuttering lips, and the rush that filled him was unlike anything he'd felt before. It seemed to shock Sam into stillness, so Frodo drew back a bit, at which Sam's mind seemed to catch up with him. He stared back for a moment before capturing his lips in a much firmer kiss. Frodo seemed to feel all the emotion being pushed through, and he was fit to burst. 

Sam, all too soon, pulled back with an awestruck look about him that quickly became the brightest smile he might have ever worn. Frodo’s hand came up to hold his face, and he leaned into the touch. 

Frodo gave another quick kiss before shifting down against the solid chest before him, tucking his head beneath Sam’s chin, and feeling a tentative arm come around his waist.

He still held dull aches throughout his body, and the icy scar of the Nazgûl blade was always there, but he was comfortable for the first time in what seemed to be a lifetime. He had slowly become aware of the strange emptiness in his chest, right below the invisible imprint of the now destroyed ring, and he wasn't sure if he’d ever fully be healed of that poison in his mind, perhaps even his very soul. He worried of what dreams and memories may wait for him, and still didn't believe he truly deserved someone so good to call his own.

But while held close against Sam in that moment, those thoughts couldn’t take hold, for he had never felt so safe as in those arms.

And so, he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written in five years, and i've never written lotr, so i hope it sounds okay? i just rewatched lotr for the first time in a decade and forgot how hetero the end is and i couldn't get this out of my head. hope anyone who still reads lotr fic enjoys :)


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